


A Heart Afraid To Beat Slowly

by InkfaceFahz



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi needs a hug, Angst, Cousins, Cute Childhood Flashback Chapter 1, Family, Friendship, Grief, Moniwa There And That P Cool, Other, Parent Death, Please Enjoy Baby Kaname'n'Keiji's Hokkaido Animal Facts In Chapter 1, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-07 04:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20303494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkfaceFahz/pseuds/InkfaceFahz
Summary: Plenty of people lose touch with their cousins as they grow older. It's when the unthinkable family crisis happens that you have to live with them. 3rd-year Fukurodani VBC Captain Akaashi Keiji can feel the stress of trying to be functional, trying to be normal, trying to have life go on as normal, rising like the mercury in a thermometer as summer begins to peak. All that's risen in the mind of his year-older cousin from Miyagi Prefecture, Moniwa Kaname, is the hope he can do anything at all to help.





	1. The Arrow in your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will get very heavy. If family death, teenagers having unhealthy coping mechanisms, and grief in general are serious triggers for you, please read carefully 
> 
> will be 4-6 chapters. 
> 
> Moniwa Kaname, Akaashi Keiji, and Matsukawa Issei are cousins and you can fight me.  
Moniwa's Mother: Eiko, sisters with Akaashi's mother: Yumi  
Akaashi's Father: Akaashi Keizo  
Moniwa's other family:  
Father: Moniwa Natsuo  
Sisters: Minoru(Age 15), Nanako(Age 11)  
Brothers:5 y.o. twins, Shiro and Goro
> 
> Eiko and Yumi's family name was Takeda. Yumi is the oldest, Eiko the second daughter, and Issei's mother Naoko is the third daughter. They have a much younger brother (9-13 years younger than them) who teachers at Karasuno who doesn't know his nephews very well, but sees them occasionally.

_ Two little boys with messy dark hair, playing with building blocks and toy cars as if they could for hours. They were very well-behaved, only disrupting the two chatting women they were laying in front of if one of them pinched their finger under a tiny plastic wheel. One proudly informed the other of various things he had learned from the books at his preschool, which the other seemed to be listening to very seriously. _

_ “But I can’t believe you still like it up there, Eiko,” one of the women said. "Even Nao took off for Sapporo with that guy. Not that it lasted." _

_ “Now, Yumi... besides, she does come back now and then with Issei. And we like it there. Natsuo’s been having great results with the plot of land, too.” Yumi laughed. _

_ “You saw me eat practically that entire tart you brought made with the berries he grew, you don’t have to remind me. Please, don’t.” They laughed together. “Don’t you think it’s a little lonely for a kid growing up there, though?” _

_ “Well, when we were. Even without your work, I understand why you like it here in Tokyo. I don’t plan to practice full-time again until Kaname’s well into primary school, but the hospital pays fairly well. I’m glad I can bring him down to see his cousin.” Eiko leaned in, glancing at the two children as if to make sure they were occupied. “Kaname’s rather fretful. It’s nothing serious, it just seems to be the way he is. But you’ve never seen that really, because he engages so well with Keiji.” _

_ “I think he likes the peacefulness of their playdates. The other children at the playground are a bit rambunctious. He always seems very happy when you and Kaname walk in… And I’ve told you, he isn’t the easiest child to read. He has that same habit Kaname does…" she trailed off, Eiko nodding. _

_ "He tries to keep you from seeing him cry? That matches about when Kaname started doing that. It was so strange to me, to be honest. I thought I'd made a horrible mistake, but he just… doesn't like me and Natsuo seeing him cry. We model it so he knows its okay to, and at least he's straightforward when he's worried. Yu, I'm sure this is just something some gentle or sensitive babies will do," she set her cup down and reached out to hold her sister's arm. "He's healthy, and we can still tell if something's wrong." _

_ Yumi nodded. "You're right. I just didn't like how it felt like he was hiding from me, you know? But he shares a lot with me... Sometimes he’ll tell me something with that serious little face of his, and then insist I know Cousin Kan told him that. He’s already interested in preschools.” She smiled at the cousins, and her sister’s son noticed her looking, offering her a hesitant smile. _

_ “You two are having fun, then?” She asked him sweetly. _

_ “Yes, Mamas,” he replied, the funny quirk the boys had of pluralizing them coming out. Keiji looked up from the structure they were working on. _

_ “Cousin Kan says that in Hokkaido, the animals are bigger than anywhere else in Japan. They have huge brown bears, and the biggest owl in the world lives there, too," he informed them. The mothers nodded encouragingly while Keiji contemplated this before looking at Kaname. “Animals that big can’t live here. They’d block traffic,” he said very seriously, as though he was disclosing a secret of the universe. This made perfect sense in childhood logic, as Kaname nodded. _

_ “When I saw a black bear out the window going to preschool, Dad told me I should never go near them. But he said that if it was little, that was even more important. Because its little, like us, the mama is nearby." He then looked up at his mother and her sister. "Because the mama bear is scariest." _

_ "That's right, my little blossom," Eiko said, offering her arms out to her son, as did her sister to hers, and the boys toddled over and climbed into their laps, Yumi rocking her son a little while Eiko fluffed the soft curls on Kaname's head. "Mama bears will do anything to keep the babies safe." _

_ "She'd never leave her son alone if she could help it. He needs her because he isn't grown yet," Yumi added, and Keiji reached for a hug, small arms and smaller hands clinging to his mother. She held him closer, and he whispered to her. _

_ "Mama. I want to be with you and Papa even when I'm grown," he said, a bit louder than an actual whisper, enough that Eiko smiled and held her son a little tighter while his attention was wandering to the design of the teacup in front of her. Yumi whispered back to Keiji. _

_ "And I want to always be there for you." _

* * *

A girl peeled carrots, while a younger one pouted. “Nanako, go wash your hands.” 

A sullen stomp on a kitchen floor that had survived so many childhoods. “You’re not the oldest!” 

A slightly irritated looking young man with a shock of hair that desperately needed combing. “She was while I've been at university. Go on, and grab Shiro and Goro.” 

“Thanks, brother,” Minoru, a charming girl in early high school, said to her brother, Moniwa Kaname. He was back at home for a few days, the rising heat clearly getting to the household now it had to accommodate seven again. 

“Don’t worry about it. But, uh,” he coughed, “Thanks for not being bratty like that when you were the same age.” She laughed. 

“So are you going to say hi to your old team?” 

“I’m helping dad with harvest, and putting in the rabbit netting. People who want a share might come over. Taka-kun, maybe,” he said, finishing up with the rest of the dinner prep and wiping his forehead with a dish towel. “You’ll be the oldest again soon enough.” 

“Well… Mom and Dad have both been busy… So I’m kind of glad you’re home, just for a little bit,” she admitted, before deciding to give in to her impulse to give him a hug. Moniwa’s expression softened. 

“It’s good to be here, Minoru,” he said gently. His ears pricked up as a hushed tone in the hallway. It sounded more like their mother. She had been working night shifts for another surgical assistant, and must have woken up a little while ago. She would be off to work again a couple hours after dinner, likely missing a chance to kiss the youngest two goodnight, as she would miss them rambunctiously waking up. 

His arms were still around his younger sister’s shoulders and the grip unconsciously tightened as their mother came in. She hadn’t had their father braid her hair yet, hanging messily, and she held her cell phone in a death grip as she stumbled towards them. 

“Mother? The other three are washing up…” He said in a soft voice. She wasn’t the most graceful riser, but this was very wrong. Minoru looked... If not frightened, at least somewhat alarmed. 

Their mother spoke like her voice was in a haze. “Oh… Just you two, Kaname and Mii-chan… Good…” Without warning she clutched them tightly, like she was about to sink under own weight and needed to cling to her children to keep herself from drowning. 

“Mama?” Minoru’s voice rose in pitch. 

“Kaname.. Minoru... “

“What’s happened?” He urged, noticing clear streaks of tears finally appearing on her face. He pulled an arm free of the grip and put it around his mother’s shaking back. 

“P-please, listen… Damn it,” she said softly, “Aunt Yumi… there was a car and --” 

The color drained from Kaname’s face. His mother’s sister. “Cousin Keiji’s mom?” He confirmed in a voice barely above a whisper. He remembered that she did photography, and production work for a handful of publications. Her son played volleyball like he had, though they saw each other less frequently as they aged, unlike his other cousin who he would see around Sendai, but he had fond memories of visiting Keiji in Tokyo. The mention of his youngest cousin finally pushed a sob out of his mother’s throat. 

“Keiji… he’s in his last year of high school, I think… Yu is always so proud of him,” she began weeping. “And her poor husband -- damn it… I need to be there for them... “ Minoru and Kaname managed to get her into one of the kitchen chairs as their father walked in, shedding a sun hat and work gloves. 

“Eiko?” He looked at the three of them. The two eldest children got out of the way as he came over, kneeling next to her. 

“Natsuo -- Yumi… She’s, she’s passed away... I need to go be with her husband and her son, they live on their own since his mother died.... And I know they didn't talk much, but Naoko, she's got to know...“ While Minoru finally cried silently, Kaname stood there, eyes wide. “Her funeral, I don’t even know… But Saitama isn’t back until next week,” her mind worried at a thousand miles a minute, her husband helpless to comfort her at the loss of her older sibling. 

Something clicked in Kaname’s head. 

“I’ll notify my professors, send assignments through my university email and take a train to Tokyo,” he said. “Uncle doesn’t have any other family, does he? Dad, I’ll ask my friends to help you out in my place… Mom… I’ll be there for Keiji and his dad. You know I can make sure they get meals, and do anything Uncle asks me to help with,” he pleaded.

“Once Dr. Saitama comes back you can come.” The three youngest came back at that moment and, after a bit of chaos, this plan was put into action, Moniwa called a favor to Futakuchi to drive him to the station that night, and his mother had managed to lay down after the initial shock of the call began to fade. A call was made where both fathers were crying, so his uncle was expecting him. Before Moniwa left, his father pressed some number of paper bills on him, saying he would put some extra in the account for groceries and such, before pulling him into a firm, stern hug, and saying how proud he was of the man Kaname grew to be. 

When the whirlwind finally settled, he finally cried on the front step while he waited for the lights of Futakuchi’s family car to come through the darkness and trees, before all but stopping them entirely in the handful of meters between the door and where the high schooler pulled up. It didn’t fool him for a second, but there was no way in hell he was going to tell Moniwa that. Futakuchi did know this: his former teammate's cousin was also a team captain, a nationally ranked team at a private school in Tokyo, and preparations for summer training camps were enough of a load to add on. Losing a parent? Futakuchi couldn’t imagine how hard that would be, and he didn't particularly care one way or another about his. If his cousin's family was anything like Moniwa's, this was going to be hell. 

Akaashi Keiji was going to need somebody to support him, Futakuchi thought, as he waved goodbye, shut off the car for a second and took a deep breath of the chokingly humid night air. He was going to need help. And Futakuchi couldn’t remember a single time Moniwa hadn’t leapt to help somebody in the years he knew him. Anyone else would have waited, instead of getting on the last possible train of the night. 

“I just can’t imagine what the last few hours have been like for the two of them,” was one of the only things he said on the drive to the station. Futakuchi couldn't either. And he couldn't imagine being in Moniwa's position. 

* * *

A backpack filled with books. “Just pass your tests, please.” 

A frantic gesture of a boy in a blazer. “Of course, captain! I’m sorry about that…” 

A disinterested expression with thin dark eyes. “If you pass, I don’t have to come up with a way for you to come to camp. I can only call so many favors in with people’s homeroom teachers, much less the administrators.” 

Akaashi Keiji was busier that he would have preferred. With first years making up a bulk of the team, some of them hadn’t adjusted to the pace of high school classes. They’d done decently in the Interhigh but he wasn’t entirely happy. It didn’t help that as much as Bokuto, the former captain, was his best friend, his advice was… not the most useful. He’d taken to asking the former manager for most things related to club officer duties. 

“You’ve been kind of stern,” Their first-year manager came up behind him. “Here’s your club room key. Thanks.” 

“It’s fine,” he answered. He shrugged his shoulders as the two of them walked towards the school gate to the nearest station. “I can’t just make up a lie for half of our starters because they haven’t studied enough.” 

“I don’t know… it seems like more than that has you on edge,” she said. Akaashi didn’t respond. He was thinking through what work he had to do once he got home. Maybe he’d have time to walk to the convenience store and buy something to eat when he took his study break. 

“Maybe it’s because of university prep..?” She wondered aloud. 

“Maybe,” he said while they waited at a stopwalk. He was still thinking through the schedule for the next few hours. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and pulled it out. 

“What in the…” He had several missed calls. It looked like they were from his father. His phone started going off again while he was looking at it. Akaashi answered quickly. 

“Father? Aren’t you at work?” He asked. Kaori looked at him, and saw his eyes go wide. The walk sign switched over. 

“Akaashi-senpai, the light --” She started to say, before his school bag nearly whipped her in the arm while he charged across the road. 

_ “I’ll be on my way.” _He repeated desperately into the phone, looking around for a particular gate in the station with wild determination. He found the one he wanted as the train was coming to, stoic and unmoving on it, holding the ceiling rail, until he practically threw himself through the doors at a stop. One foot in front of another, continuing on, until suddenly his legs felt like lead. He found himself stood in front of a hospital. 

His pocket buzzed. He answered, staring at the building still. 

“ -- I’m right outside. My father said to come here. Did she tell you my number?” 

He paused only to take a breath. And then he stuttered out the haunting question on his mind. 

“Is it_ true_ what_ he said_?” He breathed into the phone. He just numbly began walking into the building. To the desk. A nurse stopping the receptionist, saying his name, which he nodded in response to, letting them pull him by the arm through the emergency ward.

“Your father isn’t here yet --” 

A door left open in a row that were mostly closed. His mouth was dry. His feet didn’t move. He felt like he was swaying. He might have been, -- he noticed the nurse grab him by the arm. Akaashi managed a few steps, inside the room, before he could finally bring himself to speak. He had a million options prepared in his mind, and the only one that got out was a single word in a voice both soft, but thick with a thread of dread that caught on the edge of the word and made him want to scream. 

“Mama?” 

* * *

That afternoon of upheaveal, as Moniwa chopped potatoes with his sister, Akaashi was sitting by a hospital bed, holding his mother’s hand. 

Time continued to pass, and he felt his father's hand on his shoulder. He wept silently, while Akaashi still had not cried. He leaned in, just slightly, to his father’s arm around his shoulders, none of the words that he had for his wife registering in his son’s mind. There were too many people for her. He felt an impulse to pull nurses away from the bed, because she was busy. She was always busy with something, she was working, working at waking up, and he knew she needed time, stop disturbing my _ mother. _

But Akaashi didn’t act like that. He knew that they were doing the only things that could be done. Because not a single thing Akaashi could do affected whether -- 

He felt the weight of her hand shift downward, and opened his mouth in a silent scream, like he was choking on his own voice, and every detail of the moment scrubbing away into a haze that only held her. 

He only saw her face until it was no longer in front of him. He sat numbly in an emptied waiting room. He was aware of the time, and did as much of his assigned studying that he had planned to do as he could. Until his father came out, and they had to leave and he couldn’t breathe as his mind yelled that _ she has to come home with us _and his mouth was pursed shut. He created a plan for the evening in his mind on the way home, using the tattered remains of the schedule that he had plotted before the call. This makeshift list was thrown away about as fast as the first one. 

When they were home without her, his father went to making phone calls. Akaashi retched into the toilet on the second level of their home until it just burned like stomach acid. He tried to study. He eventually decided a glance over the subject headings would be enough. He ended up lying down in bed, his phone turned off. He heard his father stop by the doorway of his room, and said _ I love you, Keiji, I’m here, come talk to me if you need to, _and he stayed chained to the bed in silence, his father walking away after buying the idea he was asleep. 

He only started to doze at all when he finally wept into the pillow, twisting the blankets around his grip. He woke up repeatedly, thinking he heard the voice of his mother.


	2. Slow Down, Release Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi Keiji didn't expect to have to go the rest of his third year, the rest of his forever, without his mother. He also didn't expect his oldest cousin to show up overnight. In which Akaashi tries coping methods, doesn't like them, and buys groceries with Moniwa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings add'l for this chapter:  
Brief reference to vomit, disordered eating/skipping meals, underage drinking,

Akaashi stared into the same empty darkness from his bed that Moniwa did from the seat on the train. He heard the car outside start some hours after midnight and his stomach lurching at the noise. He wondered where his father had gone at this time of night. The house empty, he found himself vomiting again from the knot of nausea that had tied together in the pit of his stomach , and his feet carried him to his mother’s desk, her spare camera, the table in the room where whatever hobby she had at the time would lay and he would come in, sometimes, and become involved with. It had been charcoal drawings, and sumi-e, for the last year or so. He looked underneath a few test papers and found her looking back at him -- a portrait done as an exercise while she did one of him, that sat to the side and stared at him 

_ “I don’t think my eyes smile that much.” _

_ “I see it all the time, Keiji.” _

He didn’t see himself in it at all in the shadows of night and hid the drawing underneath the others after wanting to shred it. Both of them. He sat up until dawn, his door shut tightly, finishing his studies, eventually hearing his usual morning alarm go off like any other day in his life, like one that still had color in it, instead of feeling like the morning sun was being rendered in charcoal. 

He followed his usual routine until he hit the kitchen. There was a shorter young man with dark hair, thick much like Akaashi’s was, busying himself with kitchen tools that were used infrequently. He waited until the other had finished one of the breakfast dishes he was preparing -- it seemed like old-fashioned, very country cooking -- before he questioned the presence. But all that came out was a barely-perceptible vocalization, not even a full word, which was somehow enough to catch the attention of his eldest cousin Kaname. They saw each other on holidays, maybe, but far more frequently when they were young. He felt the weight of his arms on his shoulders, but no sensation from it.

“Keiji,” he said. Moniwa couldn’t tell if he’d been crying -- and truth be told, Moniwa had barely slept on the trip down to Tokyo and was clearly operating a bit stiffly, like he could only handle motions he’d done dozens of times before, running off cans of coffee from the station platforms. Despite this, he was standing upright in the kitchen and apparently conscious enough to cook. But his eyes looked sad. Akaashi looked away so that his wouldn’t become sad, too. 

Kaname had come to help. Apparently. That was how his father explained as he ate breakfast with him for the first time that month. Akaashi let this all wash over him, nodding when needed. He could feel his cousin’s eyes on him, even in a clearly sleep-deprived state wide, and concerned. He ignored it, avoiding looking his cousin in the eye, even when a lunch -- Akaashi usually bought one at the station -- was pressed into his arms. He faintly recognized the apron his cousin wore. He’d last seen it when his mother tried to make a European cake as a birthday gift for his father, eventually calling her younger sister and blubbering _ Eiko, I messed up again _before realizing she’d just missed an ingredient after she was walked through was went wrong, laughing when she had hung up and saw Akaashi, how silly she was, what a trivial mistake to make. He remembered that his mouth could smile then, and had offered his mother a small, mischievous one that betrayed that he knew her well enough to expect this. She had drawn a spoon from the pocket and jokingly, lightly poked him with the end in mock indignation. He stuck around for a few minutes,to remind her not to repeat the mistake, even though he had to get to a pre-Interhigh Sunday practice. 

“Good luck today,” Kaname said gently, urging him to take the box. He didn’t even know where it had come from. He lifted a hand to take it, and managed to say thank you. When lunch time came around, he recalled contemplating eating and felt his stomach turn. He spoke quietly with a few people he trusted, which left no time to eat, anyway, especially with the burst of activity on his phone after finally sending messages to his closest friends who had graduated or attended other schools. This left him more tired after practice than usual, though, and he dragged his feet walking back from the station. 

When he walked in at the end of the day, he saw his father sitting with Kaname next to him, listening to a man in a suit. He excused himself, and when finding the box still heavy in his bag, dumped the contents as quietly as he possibly could, and washed it. He spent the rest of the evening either studying or with a voice call where he enlisted Kozume and Kuroo to help him stop Bokuto from abandoning his studies to come to Akaashi’s aide. He couldn’t really quite just admit he didn’t think anything in the world could help him right now. 

Late at night, he saw that his cousin had left a tray for him outside the door. He took a few bites before it began to taste like ashes in his mouth. He ended up spitting the fifth or sixth into the garbage when he realized the horrible taste was reminding him of what his father and cousin were talking to the man that afternoon about. He dumped the rest in the trash, feeling dizzy and sick, but seeing the usually closed door to the spare bedroom open as he walked to the kitchen to do that left him feeling badly for wasting food. He went for a walk in the darkness, texting Kozume, who was generally at night awake and gaming but even offered to come to Akaashi if he needed somebody there -- a rare thing for him to do. 

Akaashi would never take that kind of offer, of course. He passed by the corner shop, and spotting a few vending machines, hesitantly punched the buttons and acquired a tall can, which he drank sitting at the empty neighborhood playground. It was bitter and disgusting, just especially so this time. He hadn’t liked alcohol any time he drank it, which had been on occasion, poured for him by a senior member of the club who they had gathered at the house of, or at something like karaoke. Bokuto had never been one to do this, but nor had he enforced that club socials be dry. Akaashi still felt like he was disappointing him, and his mother. He carried the can back the long route past the store to recycle it there, so it wouldn’t be in their bin at home, a bit relaxed by something even as foul as contents of the can tasted. At least there was no temptation to select from the cigarette vending machine. Even if he was, he couldn’t imagine being caught smoking by his cousin from the country. He wondered if Kaname drank or smoked, hazily, and even more vaguely wondered about whether his other cousin did. He couldn't quite remember how old Issei was. He wondered if the third sister's son knew his aunt was dead. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he murmured quietly once he’d returned to his room, the slight buzz from the oversized serving of cheap alcohol intensified by his exhaustion, clutching a pillow instead of laying on it, tightly shutting his eyes which hurt from the tension headache that had been building up. He opened his eyes when he heard his cousin’s voice several times call for him, and he stumbled out of bed. 

* * *

  


“Good morning, did you sleep?” Kaname asked. “We’re both done with the shower,” he added, and Akaashi awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, which was a bit tangled, maybe a little greasy. He wasn’t quite sure if that was a subtle hint or just a statement, but he took it as a recommendation. It wasn’t wonderful, standing there with a stony expression under the water, but it was no doubt a good idea. He heard Kaname’s voice while drying his hair, walking down the stairs to throw the towel in the laundry down there. 

“Mother, I had to take the phone back from Uncle Keizo, I’m sorry -- Have you rested yet?” 

“At all?” 

He seemed to be nagging his mother, gently. 

“Yes. Yes I will. Please rest. Please give Mii-chan and Nana and the twins my love. They’re… not old enough to remember our grandparents, after all,” he said. Akaashi vaguely remembered seeing him at the funerals he referred to. 

"So you talked to Aunt Naoko?" 

"I can understand that..." His cousin's tone sank, causing him to wonder what he was understanding. "I know... Yes.-Once you come down I'll sleep on a futon or couch. I know about the matter with Auntie Nao and Aunt Yumi..." 

"... But that probably makes it hurt for her, too." 

“I think Keiji’s dealing with it right now by talking with friends. He’s not said much to me at all. I know how much he must have happening right now, so I’m.. not going to push him. I promise, he is eating, Mother,” he said and Akaashi felt a slight twinge of guilt. 

“Just get through the next few days. I love you,” he murmured. And after hanging up Akaashi heard a soft noise, and saw Moniwa, kneeling with his head in his arms against the table’s surface. His father was by his cousin’s side. 

"I feel useless," he murmured into his arms, barely audible as Akaashi lingered at a distance, listening to his cousin add, "I'm sorry." 

"You coming down here has mattered to me, Kaname, and I'm sure it's easing your mother's mind. You can't be taking care of others every single waking moment." 

"I should be," he said, his voice muffled. "If my mother was here she would."

"I'd tell her to take a break, as well. How will your stamina hold out if you burn all your energy now? Take a walk, or take a train somewhere and clear your head a little." 

Akaashi was somewhat paralyzed at what to do here. He felt like Kaname would become embarrassed if he walked in at that moment, and the fact that his cousin was clearly worried for him was troubling.

Kaname stood, but his head was still cast downwards. "Yes, Uncle." 

"Do you have any friends at university down here?"

"One or two," he said. "Oh -- just let me grab the groceries we wrote on the list before I plan anything today," he said, turning and walking almost directly into Akaashi in the front hall. 

"Keiji, I didn't hear you come down," he said, his voice sounding like he was trying to sound less shaky. "How was the shower? I'll be back in a few minutes," he said, walking past him to put on his shoes. Akaashi realized he had a choice to make, and contemplated the thought of being alone with his father or his cousin.

"I'll come with you and help," he said, which made his cousin freeze. He felt his father looking from the kitchen as he tied his shoes.

"-- Thank you, Keiji," Moniwa finally settled on, after a glance at his uncle.

It was a bit of a strange walk.

"How has university been?" Akaashi asked Moniwa.

"I feel like it's been fine," he answered, which was a frustratingly vague response. He eventually followed it with some short anecdote about university life, which Akaashi nodded at. 

At the store itself Akaashi had never thought he would be slightly annoyed by somebody obviously being better at buying groceries than him, as he apparently managed to pick up the wrong thing each time and Moniwa was increasingly apologetic when he looked at the selected item and shook his head. He at least could identify carrots, but apparently in terms of herbs and dry goods his cousin was either remarkably picky, or Akaashi's relatively low cooking experience was impeding him here. 

"When did you learn to cook?" He asked, bringing back the right green leafy thing this time. 

"Oh, I was taught when I was little. It was easier to know how to cook something quickly than to walk out of the way to the convenience store, and in high school we couldn't leave the grounds at lunch during shop weeks, anyway," Moniwa answered. Akaashi nodded, not admitting this was a very strange image of high school for him. Or the idea of cooking being faster than finding the nearest Lawson's. 

"We'd cook when I visited when I was younger…" he said before trailing off and looking down anxiously at the list. "Sake," he said, picking a bottle off the shelf, the second item directed at Akaashi, "And beer." 

"What?" Akaashi paused, wondering what this was. Yes, he'd bought beer and wine on errands for his mother before and the shop didn't care, but his cousin was still under 20, he thought. His little walk last night however left him antsy while standing by the alcohol.

"For visitors, your dad said. Some of the sake is for cooking, as well. It's better and cheaper than cooking wines. There's too much salt in them." Moniwa looked through the beer, then back at the list. "He didn't write a brand," he muttered, as Akaashi wondered why _ that _ mattered if it tasted like beer, which it inevitably did. 

"This'll do, I guess," he said eventually, handing it to Akaashi to hold. He fidgeted a little until he could set it down for the clerk, who recognized him from working there some years, and just automatically tapped the "yes" on the screen when she scanned the alcohol. 

"Is this your cousin?" She guessed, catching Moniwa's attention, who immediately threw himself into this on Akaashi's behalf. 

"Yes, I'm an engineering student at Tohoku, I'm visiting for a few days," he said, introducing himself. Akaashi had made himself very interested in bagging while Moniwa made polite small talk about how Sendai's weather was (about the same as here) and if he liked Tohoku ('an excellent university') and other things a slightly too friendly clerk would inquire about, before waving goodbye as he left and sighing in relief. 

"I figured in Tokyo clerks wouldn't be as nosy as in the country," Moniwa said with a laugh. "She was thorough."

"Most aren't. She's just worked there for a while," Akaashi replied. 

"Oh, I can definitely tell, with how she commented on what we were buying," came the reply. He seemed a bit amused, which Akaashi didn't mind -- it meant the worry he'd murmured into the phone wasn't at the forefront of his mind, which Akaashi vastly preferred. 

"What are your plans for today? Do you have Sunday practice?" Moniwa suddenly asked him. 

"Not this week. The first years need to study," he explained, and Moniwa nodded. 

"I used to impose a study period on the team sometimes when I had been captain," he recalled. "Most of the team was plenty smart, but… deeply uninterested in applying that," he added in amusement. Akaashi tried imagining his average-height, rather soft spoken and anxious cousin herding a team of volleyball players -- at a school without an academic emphasis -- to study for tests. Moniwa caught a glimpse of smile on Akaashi's face, before looking back ahead on the walk home, content for a second not to worry too openly. 

"I'll probably be studying myself," Akaashi added, so perhaps Moniwa would think about leaving the house like Akaashi overheard suggested. His father wouldn't disturb him for long if he was studying. It seemed safe. He had some days still before it would just be him and his father in the house, especially if his aunt was hellbent on coming down for more than the funeral -- the thing he purposefully avoided thinking about the idea of -- and he had to be careful. 

Moniwa took a look at him as they returned. "Just remember to take breaks," he said, maybe slightly nagging, but Akaashi recognized he was probably speaking for his mother there, and didn't comment, just nodded.

He was too exhausted not to eat, though, and there were portions of that day's breakfast Moniwa made while he was still asleep, so after putting the groceries away he ate while Moniwa wrote something on his phone. Akaashi then returned to his desk, turning on his computer, trying to ignore repeated messages concerned friends had sent, until he heard Moniwa call goodbye to his father, telling him something was prepared for lunch, and inquiring about a subway line, the best Akaashi could hear. He wondered briefly where he was going, but he used this as a chance to reply without anyone walking in on him composing a message or overhear him speaking to somebody.

Even messaging people was exhausting, though. They had so many questions they seemed to think he had answers to. He tried to actually study, but found his attention drifting, and pulled out a small pad of paper and piece of charcoal he had brought with him from his mother’s office space maybe a month prior. But then he found himself unable to think of what anything looked like. Eventually he started roughly committing lines to the page, eventually coalescing into an eye. It wasn’t any sort of standout style. Just an eye, looking back at him. 

He ripped the page off and tossed it to the side, but he still felt a little spooked, eventually picking the page up off the floor and placing it upside down, underneath some books. Sundays were when his mother would often ask if he wanted to come along and visit an exhibit she was photographing, or the three of them would go out together, for a couple hours. 

Was every Sunday going to feel like a thousand years from now on? Akaashi just wanted to sleep through the entire day. And the next one, and the next one. Speaking with his father without his mother there -- he loved him, still, but it was harder to really say anything. He ended up getting distracted, playing around with a game Kozume gave him a disc for, before getting bored of that. Everything made him bored. Despite people reading his expression as disinterested frequently, that was almost never the case in reality. It made him feel alien from his own body to find every book, every activity, every person, tiring and unsatisfying. 

He and Kaori had to work with their club advisor and coach to finish the plans for the summer training camp with the other schools this week. He still had practice all the other days. Would he feel like this during those? Again, he felt like he was disappointing his mother and his best friend. That was the only feeling that stirred anything in him -- just something unpleasant and upsetting in the pit of his stomach. 

He had run out of ways to occupy his time, and ended up burying his face in a pillow. _ Maybe, later, I’ll ask Mom her advice once she’s back… _he thought idly he began to doze off, still exhausted from lacking his usual amount of sleep. It was like he couldn’t really dream. Sleep was just a blanket to keep his father and cousin and friends out. 


	3. June Will Be Over Soon Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes one cannot see the mourning for one's own grief. If the sky hasn't fallen, paradoxically, what was there left to cling to to let you know something was wrong, had been made wrong, and always would be wrong. Instead, the sun just goes on rising. 
> 
> And you keep clinging to fading memories, while avoiding the people who keep insisting they're there for you. They're not making the memories you never will make again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> minor warning for blood at the end of the chapter. this is also by far one of the depression, grief-heavy chapters, inspired by real experiences in my own life. Please take care of yourself if you are reading this and undergoing grief or loss.

Moniwa was back from where-ever he had gone sometime in the late afternoon, sliding his shoes off quietly. 

“Hello uncle,” he greeted Akaashi’s father politely. “Oh -- is that one of the boxes of things you wanted help with?” 

“Yes, but don’t worry about it today. It’ll still be here tomorrow. I had,” his uncle said, sounding tired, “A few people call on us today. Thank you for getting the groceries earlier instead of later.”

Moniwa stuck his bag in the closet. “Of course,” he said before stopping and gazing up the stairs. 

“How was your friend from back home?”

“Eh? Oh, Sawamura-kun… He’s fine. Another friend of his that played volleyball was there, too. We’d met a few times.” Moniwa sort of mentally shrugged. Daichi and his friend who had attended Nekoma briefly distracted him, but he felt like they could tell how anxious being away from the Akaashi residence was making him. Still, they each had a certain reassuring presence, and when they saw him off -- after a brief lesson in using the Tokyo subway system -- the firmness of the one-armed hug Daichi pulled him into was comforting, unlike how gingerly and hesistant he felt with his uncle and cousin. 

“Keiji’s been studying all afternoon?” He asked in a quieter tone, glancing back. His uncle noticed the change in demeanor and gestured for him to sit. 

“I was thinking we could order food, today.” 

“I’m here to help,” Moniwa protested. “Besides, some of the greens will have to be used today or tomorrow. It’s so close to the end of their season, the heat seemed like it was wilting them in the grocery.” 

“Well, I suppose that’s fair,” the older man conceded. He sighed, and set the box aside, leaning to meet Moniwa’s eyes. 

“I wish it had helped to take a break. But you spent most of that time concerned about me and Keiji, didn’t you?” 

“I couldn’t help it -- I’m sorry, uncle,” he murmured. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re much like your mother. You wouldn’t remember this, you were so small -- maybe a year? -- but she was here for the last few months Yu was pregnant. I had to force her to do anything that wasn’t doting, or medical advice, or just offering her own motherly thoughts… Since you were still so small, I ended up watching you while her sister forced her to go on a walk, some days,” he reminisced, Moniwa trying to recall nearly two decades prior with little success. But he smiled all the same. 

“That sounds like Aunt Yumi and mother,” he said softly, sadly. He knew part of why he would never remember that was because he had so many memories with his aunt and cousin that he had been actively thinking of until they etched in his brain. He had so many, but he only had so many. There wouldn’t be any more with her. And as for his cousin… 

“Keiji won’t want to talk to either of us, but… I hope he has someone to talk to, because he seems…” The words got turned around as he tried to figure out which one came next. 

“He’s usually far more blunt,” Uncle Keizo said. “I don’t know if Keiji… Has ever dealt with the idea of what our new… normal is,” he admitted. “He has many good friends, but, in his last year of high school…” Moniwa noticed his uncle was getting antsier himself.

“Uncle, would you like me to make tea before I start dinner?” Moniwa asked, standing. His uncle nodded, glancing a little aimlessly back at one of the boxes of things Yumi owned and a folder of documents of her life with him. 

The sound of a kettle screaming woke Akaashi very abruptly, almost heaving himself off his bed. He had a ghost of a dream, but he knew it wasn’t quite a real one -- just an impression of his mother laying in the crosswalk he and Kaori had been standing at upon receiving his father’s call. He shook himself into awareness, closing up his laptop, peeking out the window at the hazy twilight. It looked like it had rained while he was dead to the world. He checked his phone on the way downstairs, promising Bokuto’s several worried texts that he had just been busy with studying. 

“Do I have anything due tomorrow…” he wondered out loud before descending the staircase. Once again, he surprised his older cousin. 

“Are you -- all right, cousin?” Akaashi asked as Moniwa set the teakettle down carefully after almost dropping it. 

“I am, it’s just -- you’re just quieter than I’m used to hearing,” Moniwa admitted. At university there was generally a dull hum of activity, and growing up the eldest of five meant peace wasn’t something he was used to before suddenly finding someone had entered the rooms. His siblings tended to clatter or make random noises, maybe chattering the entire time. 

“I can try to be louder,” Akaashi replied. Moniwa just glanced at him. 

“Don’t worry about that -- it’ll be a little while until dinner --” 

“I can help,” Akaashi immediately cut in. Doing something with his hands could be enough of a distraction that nobody asked him how he felt.

“Are you sure?” There was a much tenser edge in Moniwa’s voice than he heard before. 

“Sure. I’m done studying.” He looked at the vegetables that were laid out. 

“I know how to prepare nanohana,” he said, picking up a bowl of rinsed green shoots. It was almost summer, so this was probably the last bunch of the year. He liked them. It was one of the only things he had correctly identified while shopping.

“-- All right.” 

Dinner preparation was fairly quiet. 

“Oh, I like this,” Moniwa said after tasting the dressed greens. “It’s got a really nice taste on the back of the palate… “ 

“We made it first back when you and Aunt Eiko visited when we were in primary school. It’s been one of my favorite vegetable dishes since,” Akaashi replied, thinking about how they’d been much closer before the end of junior high, and circumstances just started making life happen more. It felt a little like another life. The last few visits he remembered, he recalled the two of them practicing setting together, as volleyball had grabbed both their attention as their sport in junior high, and he even recalled one holiday week in Miyagi prefecture that they played with Aunt Naoko's son and his best friend while their mothers and uncles socialized, whatever the disagreement the two sisters had just beginning to thaw after their parents passed away. He remembered Aunt Eiko smiling more on those occasions. 

_"The boys are really enamored with this game, huh? The club at Karasuno needs a new faculty advisor..." _

_"Ohh, Ittetsu, you should do it! I'm sure you can learn more about the game from them." _

_"They'll all be at different high schools already, are you trying to rope our baby brother into a rivalry with his nephews?" _

Moniwa smiled. “I do remember that visit,” he said gently, closing his eyes. Cousin Kaname, Akaashi thought, had a very soft way with family. It must have had to do with his other four cousins, who he just didn’t know as well. He’d only met the twins when they were babies. "I remember now, that mother always made it the times you came during Golden Week." 

"I was just recalling one of those visits," Akaashi admitted. 

Dinner was peaceful, and Moniwa was glad to see that Akaashi finished everything, as he had started to get concerned -- maybe he had been wrong, and his cousin felt better if he was involved. He just didn’t want to put too much pressure on Keiji to do that -- but volunteering, he was glad to say yes without hesitation. If he wanted to wash the dishes, Moniwa wasn’t going to say ‘no’. 

Once Akaashi was done with the dishes, it was late enough he was considering having a bath and going to bed. He saw Moniwa in the living room with his uncle, before looking down at what occupied their hands. 

“ -- That’s Mom’s,” he said simply, the slightest hint of disbelief in his voice. It was from the cabinet she kept her makeup, and perfume, and other beauty products like skin masks. 

“This stuff… A lot of it’s already expired, to be honest,” his father said.

“You can’t get rid of her already,” Akaashi said, for once speaking completely without thinking. Moniwa snapped his gaze up. 

“These are just… old hygienic products…” He said, his voice a little weak. Though he noticed one of Akaashi’s fists hung clenched, he said nothing else. 

Akaashi quickly tried to make his brain run on its standard operating frequency, and use his cleverness and forethought like everyone expected of him. 

“Well, don’t move any of the stuff in her office,” He said. “Especially the hobby table.” He turned and began striding with purpose towards the second floor, past the butsudan, up the stairs. “I have to be at school in the morning. Good night, father, Cousin Kaname.” 

Moniwa whispered quietly. “Uncle Keizo… you said you can take the next couple days as well… let’s handle this sorting while he’s at school.” The older man nodded, but looked mourning towards the stairs. 

“I just wish we had the sort of relationship where…” Moniwa nodded at the pain in his uncle’s voice. 

“One day at a time.” 

\------ 

Another day, another day, another day. The phrase rang in Akaashi’s ears as he walked to the station, bag once again heavy with his cousin’s lunch. It was a kindness that felt more like an obligation, that taking the lunches somehow promised his cousin he wasn't slowly falling apart. 

But the truth was he felt like the ground was breaking apart beneath him, about to swallow him whole. He wasn't able to focus in any classes. Once again, when he contemplated eating the boxed lunch, his stomach turned.But when I thought about seeing his club advisor, he felt frozen before even stepping up the staircase. He ended up standing on a pedestrian overpass near the school, watching cars below until it was five minutes prior to classes resuming. He had a couple lies prepared if anybody asked. Nobody did. 

That bothered him, for some reason. After all, he wanted to be left alone. He thought that he did. 

He was not in fine form during practice. Remotely. In fact, he nearly threw a ball in irritation at one of his teammates, acutely aware of how much attention that had grabbed. He took to supervising the first and second years for a majority of practice, and could feel Kaori and Coach Yamiji’s eyes on him. Those were people he didn’t want to confront him, and managed to just barely avoid on the way off school grounds to head home. 

Similarly, being his closest friend notwithstanding, Akaashi would have rather not been probed by Bokuto Koutarou, who was apparently making checking up on him his current full-time job. 

_ Sender: Koutarou (New Cell Number) _

5 NEW Message(s)

_ we really should see each other the next day you’re free _

_ like if you want to talk _

_ or we could go somewhere _

_ akaashi _

_ akaashi please?_

Akaashi promised once more the lie of normalcy, and ratted Bokuto’s lack of studiousness out to Kuroo Tetsurou, who was helpful. Usually

**Sender: Kuroo Tetsurou [Nekoma] **

**1 NEW Message**

**Akaashi, the idiot needs to study, I agree. But you know why he’s texting. **

Akaashi scowled at his phone while disembarking, opening an instant message with Kozume. It wasn't his on his gamertag, though. He'd noticed in his third year the other teen was logged in to chat clients that they mostly used to talk amongst the Fukurodani group clubmembers. Akaashi had almost been a little surprised that despite Kuroo having graduated, Kenma Kozume hadn't lost interest in volleyball. 

\---

KozureNek05: you usually stay late. this is unusual. 

Fukur04Aki: I still have underclassmen who need to study. Wait for summer training. 

KozureNek05: yea, but since he’s VC i make tora do anything i don’t want to, myself… 

KozureNek05: u letting other people do your work is weird wwww 

Fukur04Aki: it’s busy. My cousin’s down here. 

KozureNek05: this is the one sawa introduced kuroo too right? hes mentioned him i think 

Fukur04Aki: I don't really know my other older cousin as well. Or Kaname's younger siblings. They're the only other cousins I have.

KozureNek05: huh.

KozureNek05: you should probably come by Kuroo’s place this week. ive been noticing Bokuto’s been there recently. a bunch. 

Fukur04Aki: busy. 

KozureNek05: sure /s 

KozureNek05: btw heres a walkthrough for that weird part of the game i loaned you **[OPEN UNKNOWN LINK: Y / _ N _?]** dont fuck up if you want the good ending

Fukur04Aki: Thanks. don’t forget you homework, Kozume. 

KozureNek05:i don't forget, i just decide if i have to do it or not. 

KozureNek05: pace yourself, keiji-kun. take breaks. 

\---

There was no presence in the house when he got home. He breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t need to know where the others were -- just not here. He could feel the tenseness taking a fleeting break as he collapsed on the couch, neglecting his school books. He tried flipping through the channels on the television… mostly kids cartoons. One station was running a lot he remembered from growing up. Even that was too much. He wondered about taking a walk… and when his father and cousin would return.

He should at least change, he decided,and take his bag to his room. Still no signs of life as he walked back down the stairs, though… something caught his eye. It was an addition to the butsudan. A dark, wooden frame. A photo of a smiling woman. It wasn't a regular portrait… she had a silliness in her expression that Akaashi remembered quite well.

_ "Mama, I think I'm holding it wrong." _

_ "You're being silly. Now come on!" _

_ "You don't want another professional photographer to do this?" _

_ "Why would I? I want to see what you see, Keiji!" _

_ "I see my mother crossing her eyes…" _

_ "Then get the best picture of that you can! Hurry! I can't do this forever." _

Akaashi didn't hear, or feel, the snap of the glass as he held the picture in a death grip. Not even long scratches on the side of his left thumb with blood running from them. He just sank to his knees, weeping, howling, helpless, unable to see anything in his mother's face behind the spiderwebbing shards. 

He had cried into pillows, he had tasted his tears mixed with beer, he had bitten back grief until he was convinced he'd lose his voice, so dominate the feeling nothing else said seemed real. 

Now he knelt on the floor with broken glass, a splintered frame, and a woman who he realized someday would be a stranger looking through him with crossed eyes. 

And he wept. He sobbed, rubbing blood against his cheek when he tried to catch the tears that finally fell freely. A bit of glass sticking in his hand scratched his jaw, and he excruciatingly, painfully picked it out.

He knew his mother had hated formal portraits. But _ this one, _ they chose? 

"** _KEIJI--"_ **

The voice from the entryway was earsplitting. It was a voice that had practiced that desperate, strident tone on siblings, classmates, teammates, probably his own parents. 

Akaashi felt a continent away as Moniwa collapsed to his knees next to him, a calculated hesitation keeping him from grabbing Akaashi's bloody hand. 

"You didn't have to," he said numbly. 

"Keiji, what happ-" Moniwa cut his line of questioning prematurely. "Didn't…?"

He muttered more quietly. "Her funeral hasn't even happened."

When Moniwa tried to gingerly put an arm on Akaashi's shoulders, the high schooler abruptly jerked away, stumbling to his feet.

"I'm going out. I have more studying to do. I can't hear my head here."

Moniwa had swept the broken wood and glass away from the splatters of blood, looking at Akaashi's hand in distress. 

"Please wrap that up…" He paused, closing his eyes. "Will you be back tonight." It wasn't even a question.

Akaashi was already charging out the house that haunted him. He had some money, his transit cards, and not a single piece of study materials. They both knew a mutual lie was being reached

"I don't know. I can't stand to be here."

Akaashi stared straight at his cousin. Moniwa wasn’t going to stop doing the same in turn. 

“ -- Just tell me a name he’ll recognize and I’ll say you said you were going to study there.” 

“Kozume Kenma,” he said, immediately. His father would at least recognize the other local school’s volleyball setter and captain. 

“Fine,” Moniwa agreed. "One time. I'll do this one time," he said wearily, and Akaashi could tell white lies and covering for people he held responsibility for was something Moniwa was resignedly familiar with. It made Akaashi feel small. 

"OK," he replied, anything to end the conversation and escape the dead-feeling air, of the dead-feeling house. 

“ -- Please come back safe,” he added softly. He couldn’t tell from behind whether Akaashi gave him a nod. Then the door opened, and closed. 


End file.
